


words can be like knives

by stellare



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst and Porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellare/pseuds/stellare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian is nothing more than a warm body to Kurt. If only Kurt believed that. And if only he were brave enough to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	words can be like knives

His eyes slide shut when Sebastian mouths over the sharp jutting of his hipbones, long hands with slim fingers stroking over Kurt’s thighs. He’s eager, wants to thrust his hips up so badly, wants to _feel Sebastian inside of him already_ but Sebastian’s been setting the pace for the entire evening thus far, taking his time, and Kurt’s afraid if he tries to push him to hurry, the exact opposite might happen instead.

He stays as still as he can, save for his toes digging into the mattress when Sebastian’s lips drift down and press into the crease between his inner thigh and his dick. At the same time, he hears the familiar pop of a lube bottle being opened, and before long, there’s a slick finger pressing, pushing into his hole. He gasps a little at the intrusion, more surprised than pained, eyes fluttering at how Sebastian’s finger crooks and twists inside him. God, it feels good. He feels good. And he needs more, more.

His knee hitches up for better access, and Sebastian seems to understand, pressing in a second finger, crooking, circling, steadily pushing in and out, breaching that tightness again and again in a way that has Kurt keening. He bears down, moaning as Sebastian’s fingers fuck him, but it’s not nearly enough and this time he verbally punches out “more” in breathy, hushed tones and Sebastian is surprisingly compliant, sliding his ring finger in with his index and middle. The fullness of all those fingers combined, slippery and warm with the drag of Sebastian’s short fingernails to his insides – god, he can’t take it.

“I – please, Sebastian. I need you,” Kurt whispers, hating the way his voice sounds, so weak and thready. He’s never asked for it before. Never begged. The tone sounds so foreign.

Sebastian’s eyes soften and he reaches up a little bit, dropping a kiss right below Kurt’s navel. “Just be patient, babe. It’ll be worth it, I swear.”

It sounds like an empty promise, given how desperate Kurt is to be fucked right now – but he only lets out a quiet whine that ultimately turns into a moan when Sebastian’s fingers brush his prostate, and his abdominals, his groin, everything tighten in response.

His fingers fuck in and out of him for what feels like hours – constantly teasing, brushing that spot inside him and Kurt feels like he might pass out from being brought to the brink and right back over and over, and when Sebastian murmurs a single question, “Ready?” his answer is a resounding “Yes, yes, god yes.”

His eyes are half-way glazed over, not quite registering Sebastian rolling a condom down over his own cock and stroking his length with lube, but everything comes back into stunning clarity when he feels the blunt pressure of Sebastian’s dick at his stretched hole. He breathes deep, willing his muscles to relax as Sebastian gently eases into him inch by inch, and when he bottoms out and pulls back slightly at the same time as Kurt clenching around him, the friction ripples all the way up Kurt’s spine.

“Fuck,” Sebastian groans. “You’re so tight.”

Kurt doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead pulling his hips back a little and pushing himself back onto Sebastian’s cock, his fingers curling into the sheets at the fullness, at the heat, at Sebastian – and the latter pulls out to just the cock head and thrusts back in, unfurling a new coil of heat deep in Kurt’s belly. Kurt jolts his hips and matches Sebastian thrust for thrust. When Sebastian grabs Kurt’s ankles and throws his legs onto his shoulders, it changes the angle, hard dick pressing into his prostate with each backward movement and leaving Sebastian’s name falling from Kurt’s lips like a prayer.

“God you – babe, you feel so good. Just – stay. Just like that.” Sebastian’s eyes flutter shut to the sensations and his head drops, obscuring his expression, but he presses a soft kiss to the inside of Kurt’s ankle.

The action is not lost on Kurt. He catches it, between snaps of his hips, between Sebastian rocking into him deep. Catches the way the fingers of Sebastian’s right hand have found the fingers of Kurt’s left and are pressing into the mattress.

It would be easy to dismiss these actions as ones of a particularly attentive lover. But Sebastian has never been known as such. Kurt knows this first hand – has known it many, many times.

But he also knows that things are different tonight. Knows that Sebastian is normally the type to get straight to business, knows that _tonight_ Sebastian cooked him dinner and filled his glass with wine. Knows that Sebastian is typically a fast and hard lover, knows that _tonight_ he is somewhat slower, gentler.

Sebastian bottoms out again after a particularly hard thrust. Their hips jerk together, setting every one of Kurt’s nerves on fire, his cock bouncing on his stomach, and Sebastian mutters his name with a few choice praises about the creaminess of his skin and the flushed, pretty color of his lips when before, he might have commented on how Kurt was such a good little cockslut.

He knows that all this didn’t change over night. Knows that maybe, just maybe – these changes have been there, appearing gradually one by one. Knows that maybe he’d just chosen to ignore them.

Sebastian picks up the pace, and Kurt follows eagerly, arching into Sebastian, his fingers grappling for purchase at the back of Sebastian’s neck. Sebastian reaches up with his free hand and lays his fingers on top of Kurt’s, lacing their grips.

“Look at me,” Sebastian says, and it’s more of an order than a question, but when Kurt meets his eyes, he sees no malicious intent in those deep greens. Just a strange gentleness, want, and something he can’t quite place. He holds his gaze there, just _looking_ for the sheer intimacy of it and rocking in and out, filling Kurt up and emptying him and tearing him apart and bringing him together alike.

Sebastian disentangles his fingers from Kurt’s just for a moment to let his legs fall open and wrap around Sebastian’s waist. When that’s not quite enough, he hastily grabs someone’s jeans – can’t be bothered to tell if they’re Kurt’s or his own – and balls them up to wedge under Kurt’s ass. The angle changes again as he drives in. “Oh god,” Kurt gasps, feeling the heat in his belly spike up at the change in position. He’s close. His muscles quake from the pressure, the constant _drag, prod, thrust_ across his prostate. His ass clenches – Sebastian tries (and fails) to suppress a throaty groan. It’s too much. Too much and not enough and everything and nothing.

Almost there. Almost there.

Kurt arches impossibly closer to him, wanting – needing to get closer, so much closer, thrusting faster, fucking himself deeper onto Sebastian, creating a harder rhythm for him to keep up with. And then when Sebastian frees up a hand and slides it between their stomachs, pressing the heel of his hand to Kurt’s balls and slowly dragging that palm up his length, the dry friction a delicious and torturous pressure, his thumb flicking across the head of Kurt’s cock – he finally lets go with a cry, his come shooting across his belly and Sebastian’s hand.

His spine melts into the mattress even as Sebastian still thrusts into him. When he gains enough energy to move again, even slightly, he lifts his hips to match Sebastian’s movements, looking up to see that strange softness in his eyes. And then he sees a familiar glint, a familiar quirk to his eyebrow – then his eyes screw shut and he’s nearly there too, and Kurt whispers to him to let go, just let go – and he utters Kurt’s name in a half-strangled moan, spurting thick ropes of come into the latex, and he collapses on top of Kurt, his thin, lean frame a warm, welcome weight. His breath tickles the side of Kurt’s neck, just beneath the scar, and he tilts his head just so and presses a kiss to the raised tissue. 

They stay like that for a while, just lying together, being together, catching their breath. Only when the air around them begins to cool and they start to feel the come on their stomachs grow tacky does Sebastian finally pull away, removing the condom and tying it off, tossing it into the garbage bin by the nightstand. Kurt watches as Sebastian grabs a few tissues from the top of the nightstand and wipes himself off, then wipes Kurt down, tossing those too.

Apparently that’s about as much energy as he has, and he quickly falls back onto the mattress next to Kurt. When they’re face to face, Kurt is suddenly hyper-aware of his own facial expression, and he tries to school it away. Even after everything he and Sebastian have been through, he’s still not sure if he’s comfortable sharing himself like this. Being so open, so honest.

But Sebastian won’t let that happen. He frowns. “Come on, Kurt. Don’t do that.”

He blinks. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t shut me out. We at least owe each other that, right?”

Damn, he hadn’t expected Sebastian to catch that. He watches the emotions play out on Sebastian’s face. The same thing. Warmth, affection, softness… and something inexplicable.

He can’t help but feel a bit touched. Sebastian trusts him this much. The least he can do is the same. A smile curves the corner of his lip, and Sebastian brightens considerably.

“There he is,” he exclaims. “I thought the Ice Queen had taken up permanent residence.”

“Calling me a girl again? Really, Sebastian? I think we’ve established the fact that I happen to possess some very specific equipment that girls lack. Many times in fact.” Kurt deadpans.

“Yeah we have. It’s pretty awesome, if I’m being honest,” Sebastian responds, scrunching his nose up playfully. It’s kind of adorable, really. “Today especially.” 

“Today. That was – ” Kurt searches for the right word, avoiding Sebastian’s eyes, which look painfully expectant. “Different.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Sebastian laughs, reaching up to push Kurt’s hair out of his eyes. It’s a strangely tender gesture, and Kurt’s eyes widen as Sebastian pulls his hand away. “Different. Anything else?”

“I don’t know. Different.”

“Very eloquent.” Sebastian is quiet for a beat, almost waiting for Kurt to elaborate, and when he doesn’t, he gives this strange, soft smile. For a few moments he just gazes at Kurt with that smile, and it makes his heart skip. “So when are we going to stop pretending that we don’t mean anything to each other?”

The question catches him off-guard. Well, that clears up that inexplicable look in his eyes. Although if he’s being honest, Kurt didn’t expect the topic to be broached today. He panics, throat closing up. “I. I’m not. We’re not. Pretending. I mean.” He blows out a breath, frustrated. “Well, we _don’t_ mean anything to each other.”

Sebastian gives him this look that says he sees straight through Kurt’s bullshit. Kurt’s lying if he says his pride doesn’t take a hit at being called out like this.

“…Right?”

And okay, so it’s not entirely convincing when he has to ask Sebastian for confirmation. 

Sebastian keeps staring at him with that same look.

“Oh,” is all Kurt can say, and he feels kind of like someone’s punched him in the chest. Breath stilted. A sharp pain, fading into an ache, throbbing, throbbing away. What the hell. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This was supposed to be an easy arrangement with someone he knew. A convenient fuck. That’s it.

This wasn’t part of the plan. Couldn’t be part of the plan.

He couldn’t afford for Sebastian to become another Blaine. Another Adam.

“We’re not boyfriends,” Kurt blurts out, and immediately knows it’s the wrong thing to say when Sebastian’s eyes dim. But words are words. He can’t take them back now.

“Fine,” Sebastian says, hurt lacing his tone. “I can take a hint.” He sits up as if to move out of the bed, and Kurt realizes that he really doesn’t want him to go.

“Wait.” He grabs Sebastian’s hand, tethering his fingers to the mattress. “That’s not – please don’t be mad. I don’t want that.”

“What do you want then, Kurt?” Sebastian answers. He’s impatient. Kurt doesn’t blame him. “Tell me. I’m not your boyfriend. So what am I?”

What is he?

How is Kurt supposed to answer that? He’s comfort and warmth and home and love and – oh god.

Kurt shuts his eyes.

He’s what Kurt can’t afford to lose. He’s what might break Kurt, if he does lose him. He’s what Kurt didn’t want him to become, but became that anyway.

He’s everything.

But he can’t tell him that. Maybe not today. Maybe not ever.

So he sighs and cradles Sebastian’s jaw on both sides, bringing him close. Their foreheads press together, and he tries not to think about how much this feels like a break-up. There's nothing here to break up in the first place. Not when he's too afraid to take that step.

“What am I?” Sebastian repeats, never one to let something go, and his voice is so small it makes Kurt want to cry.

But he can’t - won't cry. He doesn't have the right. His eyes flutter shut and he tilts his head, brushing his lips against Sebastian’s in less of a kiss and more of a plea for closeness. Forgiveness, even. 

“My weakness.”


End file.
